We find our villain rocking over a sight-pool in a dank, nasty grotto that drips. Poor Loki, he is watching the Asgard mead hall, Valaskjálf. With his knees drawn up to his chin, he tries to stifle the sobs as he watches the dinner antics of those he once was peace-oathed to as prince.
He cannot hold in the wailing any further, for he cannot bear the pain in his chest silently any longer! After all he has done, he is an outlaw, forsaken by all. He is to be captured dead or alive, for he is no longer granted guest-rights anywhere allied with Asgard. He might as well not be sentient, but is instead regarded as a rabid wolf, a berserker.
Poor Loki, for he never meant to be an oath-breaker, he only tried to destroy for the good of Asgard! He only wanted to be virtuous – free from the obligations of the consideration of Jotenheim and friend only to Thor!
And now, there is nothing holding him from slipping through the cracks of his mind. He is losing himself more day by day – seeing Thor helps, until he strikes him once again. All these blows are not helping his thought processes; truly he was not meant to be a warrior.
However, he thinks, as he viciously lashes out at the pool, casting the grotto into near darkness, it is even more intolerable to watch the joyous gatherings from afar – they lead him into temptation and antagonizing the Avengers is not getting him anywhere, except the healing chambers!
Truly, there was never one so wretched as he!